


Strong Enough

by pokeasleepingsmaug



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Feels, Dean Winchester and Feelings, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Impala Sex, Sex in the Impala, Vulnerable Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/pseuds/pokeasleepingsmaug
Summary: Dean and the reader reminisce after a hunt. Smut ensues.





	Strong Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a Supernatural fic, hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Blood.

Dean never let you drive Baby, so you knew he must be hurting more than he was letting on when he tossed you the keys. He'd taken some pretty hard hits tonight. Dean never hesitated, fought like a god in a leather jacket, but tonight something had shaken him. It was far from his first nest of vamps, but you weren't going to bring it up. He wasn't really the talkative type, you understood that about him.

You started the car, the well-loved engine purring, and pulled out onto the winding country road. The vamps had been hiding out in an old barn a few miles from town, but with any luck you could make it back to the bunker tonight—it was about fourteen hours the way a normal person drove, but probably closer to ten the way Dean drove. 

He reclined the passenger seat with a sigh, rubbing his shoulders against the back like he was scratching an itch. He hissed a little with the movement, and despite your raised brows he didn't say anything. You turned your attention back to the road, turning up the radio. REO Speedwagon was playing, and Dean grunted in approval before looking out the window.

You continued the drive in silence for a good chunk of time—a few hours, you weren't sure how many. It was therapeutic to drive Baby, and you started to understand Dean's undying love for the old car. She hugged every turn, accelerated at the slightest touch of the gas. She was a ridiculously responsive car, and you found yourself getting lost in the joy of every little bend in the road.

It was still dark when you felt eyes on you, and turned your head to shoot a quick smile at Dean. “Hey,” you called softly to him. 

His returning smile was the gentlest expression you had ever seen on his face. “Hey. Enjoying yourself?” You caught the undertone of laughter in his voice. 

“Yeah. Baby is awesome.” 

Dean slapped the dash affectionately, nodding. “Yeah,” he sighed. He rolled his shoulders with a moan. You'd known the boys ever since John saved your life as a teenager, had hunted with them on and off for a decade or so, but never before had you heard Dean make a sound in pain. You pulled the car over and put her in park before switching off the ignition. “What are you doing?” Dean asked, brows raised over confused green eyes. 

His face was pale and haggard, how had you not noticed before? “How hurt are you, Dean?”

“Not much,” came the cryptic answer, his green eyes going from soft to hard in the space of a breath.

“Bullshit,” you snapped. You bent back between the front seats, rummaging in your bag on the backseat floor. “The fuck is—Ah!” You crowed in triumph, sitting up straight with a tube of IcyHot in your hand. “I didn't see any blood so this is probably best. I have some Advil too.”

“I don't need any bitch mints,” Dean stated, crossing his arms over his chest. You sighed, looking up at him with as much toughness as you could muster. It was nearly impossible with him looking at you that way, hurt and guarded, unwilling to burden you with his pain. 

“Dean, come on. I'm the one who has to put up with you for the next ten hours. This is more for my benefit than yours.” His arms dropped the tiniest bit as he pretended to consider it, but with that small motion you already knew you'd won.   
He uncrossed his arms with a sigh. “Fine.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything,” he chuckled, then considered. “They threw me against a wall pretty hard against my left side. My shoulder and ribs are probably the worst of it.” 

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered brusquely.

“Slow down, babe, aren't you gonna buy me a drink first?” He smirked, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“I've bought you plenty of drinks, honey.”

“I don't think you've seen me shirtless since we were teenagers,” he observed, pulling his shirt over his head with a groan, and you felt your face burn. He laughed when he noticed the blush, throwing his wadded-up t-shirt at your chest. His smile slowly widened. “That was a good night, Y/n.”

You snorted. “How is it that I always end up patching you up? Hold still.” You reached up and turned on the dome light, trying to push back memories of that night so long ago. You still thought about it sometimes. You had been seventeen, holding a wad of gauze to Dean's chest with shaking hands and praying for the bleeding to stop the night the Winchesters saved your life.

“You wouldn't need to if I didn't need to always protect you,” Dean teased lightly, trying not to wince as your gentle fingers prodded at the nasty purple bruise that covered his entire left side. You began rubbing the IcyHot onto it, trying not to apply too much pressure while still getting it to absorb into his skin. You felt him sigh and start to melt into your touch. “That feels really fucking good.” He looked at you. “Remember what happened after?”

“How could I ever forget?” John had taken one look at you, shaking and crying, helping his bleeding son, and shuttled you and the boys into the backseat of the Impala. When he got to the run-down local motel, he handed you a room key and gruffly told you that he and his boys would be right next door if you needed them. Well after any sane person would have gone to sleep, Dean knocked on your door. “How did you know I would need you?”

He tried to shrug but you batted his arm to stop him. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I just knew. God, you were so young and pretty and just so fucking vulnerable. You broke my heart that night.”

“And you broke mine the next day,” you retorted.

“You know that wasn't my fault. And I called you. I found you again as soon as I could. I always made sure you were okay.” Dean's voice was passionate, raised a little, and you rubbed a soothing hand into the knotted muscle of his shoulder.

“I know, Dean. I just still wish you hadn't left. I still needed you.”

“You only thought you needed me. You were strong enough to deal with it on your own.”

“Even if I hadn't been, you still would have left me there.” You rolled your eyes, squeezing some IcyHot into your hand and starting to work on his shoulder. “At least your dad paid for an extra night at the motel for me. And breakfast, too.”

“That was me, actually.” Dean shot you a crooked smile. “Hustled a game of pool.” You laughed, increasing the pressure of your rubbing as Dean groaned. 

“You're great with your hands, Y/n.” Dean's bright green eyes met yours, glittering with warmth. “I'd like to see what else you can do with them.” His husky voice sent a rush of warmth between your thighs, long-ignored lust demanding to be felt. “I'll still be here in the morning this time, Y/n, and if I could go back in time, I still would've been there the next morning.” His voice was barely a whisper as he continued, “You said you weren't strong enough, but I was the one who wasn't strong enough to say no to my dad.”

“I learned to be strong from you that night,” you told him softly, unable to tear your eyes away as he licked his lips. 

“I've been wanting to do this since I looked back that morning. The sun was barely up, and your hair was spread all around you. Your face was so peaceful and open, and all I could think was that I wanted to stay with you. I wanted to wake you like this,” he breathed, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His hand rose to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb stroking along your jawline as he broke the kiss. “And I wanted to stay with you. I've always wondered what would've happened if I'd been strong enough to stay.”

“You don't need to wonder anymore,” you promised, resting your forehead against his. The corners of his brilliant green eyes crinkled in a wide smile before he captured your lips in a hard kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. You gave it immediately, powerless to resist his onslaught. You moaned against his lips and he gasped, pulling you onto his lap. His large, warm hands rested on your hips as you ground yourself against the large bulge at the front of his jeans. His fingers tightened as you rocked your hips, lighting a flame in your core. 

His fingers dipped down into the waistband of your jeans as he pulled back, smirking. “How about you show me what else you can do with those hands, babe?” You needed no further invitation to undo his jeans and pull down his boxers. He lifted his hips to help you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped you at the sight of his massive cock. You'd barely wrapped your hand around his shaft when he ripped your jeans and underwear down in one practiced motion and pushed you down to lay on the bench seat. 

He settled himself onto you, supporting some of his body weight on one elbow, and the other hand traced its around your lips, then down your chin and neck. “I'm going to return the favor, of course.” His hand meandered its way down your body—squeezing each breast lightly, tickling the curve of your waist, stopping to gently tease your clit. “Because I'm pretty good with my hands, too.”

He leaned down to kiss you as he stroked your pleasure center. You could feel his grin against your lips as you gasped into his mouth. He dipped one finger into your folds and you ground yourself against the heel of his hand. He chuckled, nuzzling your neck as he lined himself up with your entrance. He sank into you with a throaty moan, and just the sheer size of him nearly undid you. He lifted his face to kiss you again, hard and hungry as he began to move slowly within you. 

It wasn't long before he had you arching your back and crying his name, half-gasped and half-whimpered. The car rocked side to side from the force of Dean's thrusts, your entire world narrowed down to fogged windows and glimmering green eyes as your second orgasm carried you away like a flash flood.

Dean finished not soon after, slamming into you with all his might. The Impala shuddered into stillness as he collapsed down on you, both of you shaking. “I thought you were going to break me,” you gasped, rubbing his bruised left shoulder.

He winced before kissing your sweaty hair. “I knew you were strong enough to take me.”


End file.
